


Krupnikas

by NotPersephone



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Series, Sickfic, with a side of UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:10:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9401126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: “Hannibal-” her voice was raspy and strained, the sore throat made speaking hard “did you not get my message?”“I did, but I was worried. I wanted to check if you need anything, Doctor.”





	

Bedelia woke up with a pain in her throat and an increasing heaviness in her head. Most inconvenient and very irritating. She took great care of her body and mind at all times. And now she succumbed to a common cold. She always disliked medications as they could dull her mind. The loss of control was her worst fear.

Her symptoms worsened by the evening and she thought it was best to stay in bed the following day. She did not have many appointments after all, just the one, her only patient. Hannibal might be anxious, she thought, he was a creature of habit.

Bedelia made the call and, as expected, Hannibal’s voice sounded worried. She assured him she was all right and rescheduled their session for the following week.

A weekend in bed did not help and she did not feel strong enough to keep her engagement.

She phoned Hannibal to reschedule once more and was relieved when she heard his answering machine. She waited, expecting him to call back, but he did not. Feeling weak, she returned to her bed.

A sound of a doorbell woke her up from a restless slumber. Confused, she wrapped a robe around her frame and made her way downstairs. She opened the door and came face to face with her patient.

“Hannibal-” her voice was raspy and strained, the sore throat made speaking hard “did you not get my message?”

“I did, but I was worried. I wanted to check if you need anything, Doctor.”

“I am fine, Hannibal,” she retorted, preparing to send him away. At that exact moment, her body chose to betray her; a sudden dizziness took over and she reached for the wall to steady herself.

She heard the door close and a strong arm supported her back.

“There is no need- “she attempted to protest, but he tone was as weak as her balance.

“Allow me to get you to a chair,” his hand did not falter.

“I just need to lie down,” slowly, she went up the stairs and so did Hannibal.

She entered her bedroom and was glad when he did not follow; she was in no position to resume their game. Her head found the pillow and she closed her eyes in temporary relief.

It did not last long. She could not sleep. Her head was burning up, but her body was shivering. She tossed and turned, coming in and out of a fever induced dream.

Suddenly, she felt a cold cloth being placed on her forehead and soothing her heated skin.

There was a warm presence in her bed. She curled up next to its source, relaxing, and finally fell asleep.

When she woke up in the morning, the fever subsided.

Bedelia reached for her forehead and recalled the cool compress. It was nowhere to be found. It must had been a dream. The last thing she remembered was Hannibal’s visit.  She would consider whether to mention it at their next session.

She opened the bedroom door and was welcomed by a smell of spices. Startled, she made her way to the kitchen.

Sleeves rolled up, Hannibal was preparing breakfast.

Bedelia stared at him silently, numerous thoughts and questions rushing to her mind.

“Good morning,” he smiled, turning to face her, “do you feel better, Doctor?”

“What are doing here Hannibal?” she walked to the counter and looked at his wrinkled shirt, “did you sleep here?”

“Yes,” he paused as if waiting for Bedelia to fill in the blanks.

“I slept on the couch,” he added when she said nothing.

A pot of tea and a cup were arranged on the counter.  A smell of honey, cinnamon and cloves drifted into her nostrils.

“Tea with spiced honey. It is traditionally prepared as a liqueur, but it is a bit too early for that,” he gave her a half smile,” an old Lithuanian cold remedy.”

 “You should not be here,” she attempted to maintain her professional tone, yet it was no easy given the circumstances. “You are my patient, Hannibal.”

“I am also your colleague and- “he stopped.

He wanted to say more, he wanted to be more.

“I care about your well-being,” was the only thing he added.

His hand rested gently on top of hers, his thumb brushed over her skin and then he withdrew. A touch of pink returned briefly to her pale cheeks.

“Please- “he offered her a cup.

“Thank you,” she accepted the drink. The spicy and pungent aroma she breathed in was beginning to clear her woozy head.

She took a sip. Hot liquid poured down her throat. It was soothing and invigorating at the same time, a perfect balance.

“Mmm, delicious.”

Hannibal’s eyes shone brightly, he took pleasure in her reaction.

“I hope you do not mind, I have taken a liberty of preparing you a light breakfast. Nothing extravagant, crepes with blueberries and orange butter.”

She was about to protest, but did not. There was care in his voice and tenderness in his eyes. How curious, she thought and allowed herself to lower her barrier ever so slightly.

They sat together in the dining room. Bedelia did not remember the last time, if ever, she shared breakfast with anyone. Nor she had someone prepare it for her.

It gave her a sense of enjoyment, not known before. New emotions edged beneath her armour.

They finished eating and sat in silence, enjoying the moment of tranquillity.

“This was wonderful, thank you. I think I need to rest for a while,” Bedelia broke the stillness and stood up.

No words of goodbye were uttered. She did not tell him to leave, she did not tell him to stay.

When she woke up, Hannibal was gone. The smell of spices still lingered in the air.

The kitchen was cleaned and dinner was ready for her in the oven.

A note on a counter said to call him at any time if she was in need of anything. She looked at the elegant words written by a man who cared about her. A man she wished would still be here.

The cold was subsiding. The only thing that remained was a warm feeling in her heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Krupnikas is the Lithuanian name of the spiced honey liqueur (which I know as "nalewka" in Polish). I do not know if it can be remade as tea, but if anyone could do it would be Hannibal.


End file.
